A Different Feeling
by Tango Whiskeyman
Summary: It's hot. So unbelievably hot. Why's he running again? He's not entirely sure. All he knows is that no matter what happens, he won't let her go. [Shinji/Rei][Established Relationship]


Timid.

Tepid.

Taciturn.

Three T-words one might use to describe Shinji Ikari. That being so, there have always been moments, however rare, brief, or ill-fated, when those three epithets have been defied.

This was one of those moments.

It had been an altogether unremarkable afternoon, thankfully bereft of the usual woes that plagued Shinji's existence—drama, angst, and horror. He and Rei were walking through the busy streets of Tokyo-3, simple as that. The event that set this otherwise unremarkable afternoon apart from the innumerable other unremarkable afternoons of days past, began with an abrupt pause. Shinji simply froze, completely out of the blue.

This little aberration persisted for about a minute or two, until a softly spoken "Shinji?" broke the silence.

Shinji turned around, then stared dumbly at Rei for a few seconds. She opened her mouth to speak again, and he stepped closer. She then closed her mouth, as if understanding something that—in that moment—Shinji didn't.

He shakily reached his arms out, brought his hands close to Rei's face, then gently brushed his palms against her cheeks—his fingers nestling in fluffy, blue tresses. He took his time to appreciate the sight before him. Those eyes of hers… soulful and intense, yet still curious and innocent. The rosy hue rapidly spreading across her face… She was absolutely intoxicating. Shinji couldn't help himself—he kissed her.

When his lips parted from hers, he felt a jolt, then a great sigh followed. That wasn't their first kiss, and it was far from their last, but there was something special about it. Perhaps what made it special was simply the thrill of engaging in such an overt and, to those more prudish, _indecent_ public display of affection.

"Let's get away from here," Shinji said in a hoarse whisper. Those words were spoken with uncharacteristic, though still mild, confidence—boldly defying the (t)rio of adjectives that seemed to define him.

Without even waiting for a response—be it a "Yes" in affirmation, a nod, or even so much as a twitch of the nose—Shinji grabbed Rei's hand and dashed off. God knows what specifically brought about this excitement. Call it a momentary lapse of reason, perhaps brought on by some external factors, such as blah blah blah. Right then and there, in his frenzied state, all Shinji was sure of was that it was hot. _Damn_ hot. With post-Second Impact weather that was to be expected, but _this _heat… it was enough to make one mad. "It was all whirlwind, heat, and flash," as an old album cover once put it.

Rei didn't say anything; remaining true to her solemn—and as perceived by some others, downright sepulchral—nature. In that moment, though, Rei's nature had nothing to do with her silence. She knew then that words weren't necessary. She knew Shinji… _trusted_ him. Trusted him more than he knew he deserved. In all her wisdom—wisdom far beyond that of any ordinary girl her age—she knew her Shinji wouldn't steer her wrong.

After all, Shinji wasn't running away _from_ anything, or even _to_ anything for that matter. He just wanted to… get away. Throw caution to the wind and chase after _something_. Even if it was something as simple as the summer breeze. With Rei by his side, it didn't matter where they went or what they did. What mattered was that they had each other.

Saints preserve them.

Through all this, Shinji dared not look back. He wasn't Orpheus, nor she Eurydice, and despite how hellish it often was, Tokyo-3 wasn't Hades. He knew he wouldn't lose her if he turned back. Nevertheless, there was a small part of him, a part of which he wasn't consciously aware, that knew if he looked back, he would falter. He couldn't let that happen. Not yet, at least. His mania had to reach its logical conclusion. Otherwise what would be the point? There'd be no romanticism in such an anticlimactic ending.

Rei, bless her heart, had no trouble keeping up with Shinji, graceful as ever. Despite the boy's slipshod attempts at dodging passersby, with each obstacle she'd skillfully duck and swerve out of harm's way; all the while her grip on him never faltering.

That feeling of another's touch—an _affectionate_ touch—the _warmth_ of that touch, the _tenderness_ of that touch, the _security_ of that touch, can't be spoken of highly enough. Shinji and Rei knew, more than damn near anyone, just how important those little gestures were. Those subtle little movements that remind you, even when you're at your lowest, that someone cares for you, that someone appreciates you, that someone even loves you. Those reminders that despite how everything may seem, you are _not_ alone.

After a few more minutes of running in the sweltering heat—vision blurry, body aching—fatigue was finally taking its toll on Shinji. A million thoughts flashed through his head; some painful, some happy, nearly all vague and incoherent. One thought, though… no, one _command,_ remained clear and constant: _Don't let go._

A faint impression of blue and red flashed before Shinji, then, knees buckling, he fell backwards and crashed down to the ground. Thankfully he and Rei had made it to a park and freshly mown grass had cushioned their fall. She had quite literally fallen on top of him, her chest pressed against his, her groin pressed against… well, you get the idea. He hadn't let go and neither had she. They remained like that for quite a while—gazing unblinkingly at each other, their hot breaths intermingling through heavy pants. It was as if they were in a trance.

A cough from a nearby pedestrian, her expression scolding, snapped them back to reality. Shinji had the modesty to look embarrassed, though Rei was altogether unfazed. She gingerly eased herself off Shinji, and upon doing so, a curious sound escaped her lips, heavenly and mellifluous.

It was a laugh.

That was the first time Shinji had ever heard her laugh. Judging by her puzzled expression, it was the first time Rei had ever heard herself laugh, too. Shinji loved the sound. He thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. When he told her that—in his own bashful way, of course—her lips curved upwards, smiling that ineffable smile of hers.

Sometimes the heat wasn't so bad.


End file.
